- — 


THE 


AFRICAN  WIDOW. 


Supposed  to  have  been  written  by  tfcelat* 
LEGH  RICHMOND. 


PUBLISHED  BT 

THE  AMERICAN  TRACT  SOCIETY. 
150  Nassau  Street,  New  York. 


INTRODUCTION. 


On  lately  reading  the  Report  of  a So- 
ciety instituted  for  the  relief  of  the  wants 
of  the  poor  Africans  and  Asiatic  strangers, 
whom  various  circumstances  in  Providence 
have  brought  to  England,  I w;ls  much  struck 
with  the  very  affecting  narrative  of  a black 
woman  which  is  added  to  the  Report.  It 
occurred  to  me  that  it  might  be  well  to 
state  the  circumstances  of  her  life  in  a few 
and  simple  rhymes.  The  attempt  is  here 
made,  preserving  the  particulars  of  the  his- 
tory' as  they  are  recorded  in  the  account 
above  mentioned.  L.  R. 


THE 


AFRICAN  WIDOW 


part  I. 

Christians,  attend,  while  I relate 
A new  and  simple  story, 

’Twill  teach  your  hearts  with  thankfulness 
I o praise  the  Lord  of  glory. 

In  London  city  once  there  dwelt 
A poor  but  honest  pair : 

God  bless’d  them  with  an  infant  child, 

And  she  was  all  their  care. 

From  Africa’s  far  distant  shores 
To  this  good  land  they  came, 

Friendless  and  poor,  alike  unknown 
To  fortune  and  to  fame. 

The  times  grew  hard,  and  keen  distress 
f orced  him  from  her  to  flee ; 


6 


AFRICAN  WIDOW. 


(118 


Mutual  support  in  hopes  to  gain, 

The  husband  went  to  tea. 

Oft  would  the  tender  wife,  with  tears, 

Her  absent  husband  mourn  ; 

Oft,  as  she  view’d  their  darling  child, 

She  sigh’d  for  his  return. 

But  oh  ! my  heart  it  bleeds  to  think 
What  sorrows  did  betide ; 

The  parent’s  hope,  this  much-lov’d  child, 

It  sicken’d,  droop’d,  and  died. 

And  while  she  mourn’d  her  infant’s  loss, 
Sad  tidings  came  from  sea  ; 

(The  shipwaslost,  her  husband  drown’d,) 

A helpless  widow  she. 

What  tongue  can  tell,  what  heart  conceive 
The  horrors  of  her  mind  ! 

Her  husband  lost,  her  infant  dead, 

And  she  was  left  behind ! 

Loudly  she  wept,  and  sigh’d,  and  groan’d 
With  anguish  almost  wild ; 

And  still  she  cried,  “ My  husband’s  dead, 
“ And  I have  lost  my  child !” 


119) 


AFRICAN  WIDOW. 


Was  there  no  holy  hope  divine 
To  calm  her  anxious  care  ? 

No  consolation  from  above, 

No  remedy  in  prayer  ? 

Ah  no  ! her  dark,  untutor’d  mind 
A Stranger  was  to  truth ; 

No  God,  no  Christ,  no  hope  she  knew, 

A heathen  from  her  youth. 

Deepest  despair  possess’d  her  soul, 

She  spake  in  accents  wild, 

And  still  she  cried,  “ My  husband's  dead, 
“ And  I have  lost  my  child 

Oft  to  the  infant’s  grave  she  went 
Full  many  a tear  to  shed, 

And  as  she  wept,  still  ever  cried, 

“ Ah  me  ! my  child  is  dead 

Each  following  Week,  when  Sabbath  bells 
Proclaimed  the  hour  of  prayer, 

The  open'd  church-yard  gate  soon  brought 
Hie  weeping  mother  there. 

Full  three  long  years  in  hopeless  wo 
She  mourn’d  her  wretched  lot ; 


!S 


AFIllC  A.V  WIDOW. 


(120 


Comfort,  like  Rachel,  she  refus’d. 
Because  her  child  was  not. 

How  dark  the  sorrows  of  a mind 
With  grief  like  this  perplexed! 

In  this  world  she  no  comfort  knew, 

She  sought  none  in  die  next. 

A moment  pause,  while  thus  I end 
The  first  part  of  my  story, 

And  when  you  hear  what’s  yet  to  come, 
Oh  give  to  God  the  glory  ! 


PART  II. 

Christians,  I’ll  tell  you  how  the  Lord 
Pity’d  this  widow’s  sorrow ; 

For  oft  the  tear  that’s  shed  to-night. 

Ends  in  a smile  to-morrow. 

1 rom  week  to  week,  for  three  long  years. 
With  solemn  pace  and  slow, 

The  widow  trod  the  church-yard  path 
In  unavailing  wo. 


121) 


AFRICAN  WIDOW. 


9 


Once,  as  she  went  her  custom’d  way, 
Clos’d  was  the  church-yard  gate  ; 

Far  from  the  grave  was  she  compell’d 
In  pensive  grief  to  wait. 

With  streaming  eyes  she  view’d  the  spot 
Where  her  dear  babe  was  laid. 

Denied  access,  she  sat  and  cried, 

“ Ah  me  ! my  child  is  dead  !” 

Within  the  adjoining  house  of  God 
W as  heard  the  voice  of  prayer ; 

But  all  was  vain  to  her  who  knew 
No  voice  to  soothe  her  care. 

Once  more  she  came,  the  gate  wa9  clos’d, 
And  she  stood  weeping  there  : 

The  only  pathway  which  remain’d 
Lay  through  the  house  of  prayer 

She  saw  the  attendant  at  the  door. 

And  ask’d  her  leave  to  pass  j 

" Pray,  let  me  go  to  yonder  grave. 

My  child’s  beneath  the  grass.” 

Thankful  to  gain  her  kind  consent, 

Swift  through  the  church  she  fled. 


10  AFRICAN  WIDOW.  (122 

And  reach’d  the  grave,  where  still  she  cried 
“ Ah  me  ! my  child  is  dead  !” 

While  in  the  church  rejoicing  saints 
Songs  of  thanksgiving  shout, 

Low  on  the  ground,  in  sad  despair, 

The  widow  sat  without. 

The  hour  of  mercy  then  approach’d, 

And  God  beheld  her  case, 

The  preacher  now  began  t’  unfold 
The  mysteries  of  grace. 

She  linger’d  long,  but  ere  he  clos’d 
She  rose  to  journey  home  ; 

Repassing  through  the  church,  she  heard, 
“ Flee  from  the  wrath  to  come  ” 

Struck  with  the  alarming  sound,  she  stopp'd 
Astonish’d  and  distress’d; 

The  preacher  cried,  “ Arise,  depart, 

“ For  this  is  not  your  rest.  ’ 

Deep  in  her  heart  conviction  sunk, 

Each  word,  each  thought  seemed  new  ; 

She  long’d  to  ask,  “ Can  I be  saved  ? 

“ What  must  a sinner  do  ?” 


r-23) 


AFRICAN  WIDOW. 


11 


O’cnvhelmed  with  many  a rising  fear, 

She  felt  the  weight  of  sin  ; 

She  wish’d  to  seek  salvation’s  path, 

But  where  must  she  begin  ? 

Convinc’d  how  far  from  God  she  lived. 
Homeward  she  bent  her  way ; 

With  thoughts  confus’d,  and  falt’ring  tongue 
Trembling,  she  tried  to  pray. 

For  mercy  now  she  hourly  sued, 

Dropping  repentant  tears ; 

The  thoughts  of  judgment,  death,  and  sin. 
Appall’d  her  soul  with  fears. 

Earnest  she  read  the  word  of  God, 

But  could  not  find  relief, 

As  yet  a veil  was  o’er  her  eyes, 

And  she  a prey  to  grief. 

A neighbor  told  her,  whom  she  ask’d 
What  course  she  must  pursue, 

“ A worthy  lady  lives  hard  by. 

“ Who’ll  kindly  speak  to  you. 


12 


AFRICAN  WIDOW. 


(124 


“ She  is  a lady  rich  and  great, 

“ But  she’s  a Christian  true; 
She  lives  a life  of  doing  good, 
“ And  she’ll  be  good  to  you.” 


Gladly  she  hasten’d  to  the  house 
Where  this  kind  lady  dwelt ; 


To  her  she  open’d  all  her  heart, 
And  all  she  fear’d  and  felt. 
With  sweet  affection  and  regard 
The  lady  heard  her  woes, 
Then  kindly  pointed  out  the  way 
For  souls  to  seek  repose. 


125) 


AFRICAN  WIDOW. 


13 


She  spoke  of  sin,  and  spoke  of  Christ, 

His  righteousness  and  blood  ; 

Show’d  how  the  sinner’s  only  hope 
In  Jesus’  sufferings  stood. 

“ Fear  not,”  said  she,  “ but  humbly  come 
“ With  this,  thy  only  plea, 

“ A helpless  sinner  sure  am  I 
“ But  Jesus  died  for  me. 

“ Be  ev’ry  trial  sent  of  God, 

“ A med’cine  to  thy  mind  ; 

“ Thy  husband  and  thy  infant’s  loss 
“Were  both  in  love  design’d. 

“ These  were  thy  idols,  these  engross’d 
“ Thy  soul’s  entirest  care  ; 

“ He  took  them  both  that  thou  might  learn 
“ To  seek  thy  God  by  prayer. 

“ That  grave  where  thou  so  oft  hast  heav’d 
“ The  sigh  of  sad  despair, 

*‘  A place  of  mercy  proved  to  thee, 

“ A Savior  found  thee  there. 

“Freely  resign  thine  all  to  him, 

“ Whose  truth  shall  make  thee  free  ; 


14 


AFRICAN  WIDOW. 


(126 


“ Believe  it  and  be  comforted, 

“ He  gave  himself  for  thee.” 

Thus  holy  counsel  from  her  lips 
In  tender  accents  fell ; 

Parting,  she  took  her  hand,  and  said, 

“ Sister  in  Christ,  farewell.” 

“ Sister  !” — she  scarce  believed  the  sound ; 
“ Sister  !”  can  this  be  true  ? 

Can  such  a lady  own  a wretch, 

And  call  her  “ sister”  too  ? 

The  word  it  pierced  her  inmost  soul. 

The  tear  responsive  fell ; 

What  were  the  feelings  of  her  heart, 

No  mortal  tongue  can  tell. 

She  thought  how  lovely  grace  appears 
In  those  whom  God  makes  his : 

What  then  must  be  the  love  of  Christ 
Which  brings  forth  fruit  like  this  ? 

Home  she  return’d,  and  prostrate  fell 
At  the  Redeemer’s  feet, 

Pleaded  his  blood,  his  life,  his  death, 

Before  the  mercy-seat. 


AFRICAN  WIDOW. 


13 


IJght,  like  a flood,  burst  o’er  her  soul, 
As  Jesus  seem’d  to  say, 

“ I’ve  blotted  thy  transgressions  out, 

“ I’ve  wash’d  thy  sins  away.” 

Thus  did  the  holy  Comforter 
His  peaceful  joys  impart, 

And  poured  the  oil  of  gladness  out 
To  heal  her  wounded  heart. 

“ Bless’d  be  my  Savior  God,”  she  cried, 

“ All  glory  be  to  thee ; 

“ I know  that  ’tis  in  faithfulness 
“ Thou  hast  afflicted  me. 

Dark  was  my  day  of  ignorance, 

“ And  dark  of  sin  my  night, 

“ But  now  the  shade  of  death  is  turn’d 
“ To  morning’s  welcome  light. 

“ Incline  my  soul  to  serve  thee,  Lord, 

“ My  every  power  employ, 

“ For  thou  hast  heal’d  the  widow’s  heart, 
“ And  made  it  sing  for  joy.  __ 

“ Farewell,  my  babe  ; no  more  I’ll  weep, 

“ Nor  at  thy  grave  despair, 


16  AFRICAN  WIDOW.  (121 

“ But  tnist  that  God  liath  made  my  child 
“ His  own  eternal  care. 

“ That  house  of  God,  where  oft  I’ll  go, 
“ Shall  still  this  thought  afford, 

'*  I went  to  mourn  an  infant  dead, 

‘ But  found  a living  Lord.” 

Christians,  adieu ! I now  have  told 
My  new  and  simple  story ; 

Ascribe  the  honor  all  to  God, 

And  praise  the  Lord  of  Glory. 


WORE  THAN  OH*  nOHDH*f> 

FOR  • iv'  ,%%S! 

' (DIO MM#, 

£iA  Knfllisl),  j^irncl),  daman,  toe. 

ILLUSTRATED  ■* 

"WITH  KEAt’eKGRAVINQS, 

PUBLISHED  ET  THE 

AMERICAN  TRACT  SOCIETY. 


NGW-YORK;  150  NASSAD-STREET. 
EOSTON  . 28  CORNHILL. 

To  be  had  in  the  principal  cities  and  lotniS: 


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